


short days, long nights

by leafings



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Developing Relationship, M/M, Miscommunication, Nightmares, Soul Bond, Takes place somewhere in Blue Lily, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000, please just . fit this SOMEWHERE in canon i’ve lost the will to keep it in
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-01-04 12:34:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18343796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leafings/pseuds/leafings
Summary: “Are you forgetting I am the fucking Greywaren?” he said incredulously, “How many more levels of communication with Cabeswater could there possibly be?”“Well, when you’re deliberately ignoring it,” Calla snapped, as if she was Cabeswater personified and she was the one that was pissed off. “It’s going to get creative.”“It wants Adam and I to get our act together? We aren’t the fucking circus.”---[the magic forest wants Ronan to court Adam. it goes about as well as anyone would expect.]not abandoned, being edited and updated -16th july.





	1. one.

**Author's Note:**

> title from the troye sivan song: lucky strike.

There’d been a time when he thought it could have been Kavinsky.

When he’d first met the boy he’d been enamoured. He’d been everything that Ronan couldn’t find. Strong, opinionated, fast. He’d fallen head over heels with infatuation, although he hadn’t known that then. Maybe his father had seen it, and that’s why he’d warned him off of him. But when had Ronan ever listened? He’d stretched a lie thin to keep up, moulded himself into someone he wasn’t - a bad boy. As time had gone on, it had lingered. But it hadn’t been the same.

Then, he hadn’t had time to think about it. Kavinsky had gone off the deep end, attempting to take Ronan with him, and leapt into the sun. Afterwards, he’d only felt guilty relief. Guilt that he felt so good to have the other man gone from his life. He was sure that relishing someone’s death wasn’t the mark of a good man. Ronan had never thought of himself as a good man before, but he was damn well going to start.

“There was never a time when that could have been you and me.” Gansey had told him one time, referring to K. Ronan, at the time, had thought how wrong Gansey could have been. Now, he was convicted his best friend had been right. He had to be.

Now, after everything that happened afterwards, he'd known Gansey had been right. 

-

  
He hadn’t been expecting Gansey to tell them they shouldn’t go back to Cabeswater for the time being. Cabeswater had protected Ronan and Adam the best it could, and Blue had protected herself, but it seemed like Cabeswater had spoken directly into Gansey’s ear. As it stood anyway, Ronan was in no mood to hurry back. Cabeswater was not pleased, it was hurting.

If he closed his eyes he saw _something_ , and it would be continuous. It could be his parents, bickering in the morning light of the window. It could be Declan’s face as he’d snarled at Niall after he had changed Mom again. It could be the thought of Matthew, trapped in a burning car as Kavinsky played his sick games. And they’d be looking that way because of Ronan. Kavinsky’s fire might not have touched him that night, but he’d been consumed nevertheless it seemed. He thought of the third-sleeper, how it was already with them inside Cabeswater. It was like someone was bringing a bomb inside his home, desecrating all the walls. He felt powerless to protect any of them.

This feeling had extended to Cabeswater. Even though it had sworn to protect Adam and himself, it seemed wrong to expect so much from it and nothing in return. They had to figure out a way of fortifying it, of strengthening it from the third sleeper. In truth, the mental gymnastics that were being required of them were exhausting. Their tempers had frayed and snapped, as despite the urgency of the situation they had to admit they had to stand back and take stock. Find a new way to approach the problem.

That was admittedly easier said than done, for they hadn’t really gotten anywhere so far. Outside of a few hair-brained ideas, there was nothing much that they’d done to fortify the forest and its magic - simply because they hadn’t a clue what they were doing.  
  
Therefore, they had some unexpected Gansey-meddling free time to take stock of the new situations they’d found themselves in. Ronan wasn’t counting this as such a good thing though, because it was leaving unexpected time for self-introspection. It seemed like Cabeswater didn’t like what it had seen. Either that, or it was pushing him to something. Kavinsky’s little escapades had shown him self-acceptance, but it seemed like Cabeswater needed more from him - action. It was pushing him harder and faster, and Ronan was running out of time to make any decisions, both about his feelings and about the third sleeper.

It had been an unexpected development, that's for sure. Cabeswater seemed to be sentient about it's, and _their_ , own fate should they fail to be one united, singular unit. The way it spoke to Ronan, brash and clumsy, indicated that it was beginning to lose patience with him about a certain  _problem_ that it appeared to have with two of the members of their little gang in particular.

Ultimately, that was why Ronan was at Adam’s door at 10 p.m. on a school night. Not that this was unusual in itself - Ronan found himself gravitating to Adam more often than not lately, having shared many of his secrets with the other boy for reasons not unknown to him. However, what was unusual was his motivation, for he had underhanded intentions. Intentions that had something to do with the action that Cabeswater was wanting from him. He was testing the waters, so to speak, to see how these intentions would be received.

“I’m studying.” Adam Parrish stood in the open door, hair on end and pyjama clad. Disarmed and yet dangerous, his nose was pink with cold. Ronan, on the other hand, was bundled up - leather jacket, gloves, scarf, the whole nine yards. He knew Adam still had the scarf he’d dreamt him. It kind of irked him that it hadn't been used. It was a good job then, that he’d come with new gloves in his pocket. He’d tested them himself earlier, they were in fact exceedingly comfortable, but they hadn't fit him. Not for him, then, he had reasoned. 

Ronan, in actuality, blinked. “Yeah I’m not fucking blind, I can see that.”

It was a testament to how far they’d come that it didn’t even rile Adam up anymore. Ronan shouldered past him into the small room and immediately threw himself onto the floor next to Adam’s bed. He let out a huff of air and didn’t move from the face-down position that he’d landed in. He’d, at this point, dreamt himself something to sleep on. The floor itself wasn’t very comfortable, and he’d been thinking of getting Adam a new mattress. The one he had currently was fucking horrid. Getting the mattress wouldn't be the problem - getting Adam to accept it, however...

Adam looked at him for a long moment, before sighing in resignation and shutting the door quietly. Living above a church, and with a landlady that seemed to have the ears of a bat (no _girls_ in the evening, Adam Parrish) seemed to be rubbing off on him.

  
“I guess it was time for a break anyway,” Adam said seemingly to no one as he went to put the coffee maker on. He moved slowly, as though his limbs were slowly freezing over, rubbing his hands together and shoving them in the pockets of his sweatpants.

“Hmph,” Ronan replied from his face into the fabric. He’d spoken just to make Adam feel less alone, he didn’t actually need to reply. Adam would know that too.

“Do you want one?”

"I’d need a stronger fucking drink than that.” He thought back to those times when he’d spent days at a time stuck in a haze. Those never came about anymore. Any obligation he'd felt to be a part-time street racer had died with Kavinsky.

“That’s a no then.” Adams responses are tailored, they make Ronan feel both humoured and heard. That’s what he’d always liked about Adam. That he can hear him and meet him where he’s at. In the beginning, he hadn’t known how to act at all. Poor boy. He’d rubbed up against Adam in all the wrong ways, and for all the wrong reasons. Even now, their wires often crossed; they didn’t quite click. It wasn’t like him and Gansey- it was something electric.

He doesn’t say anything else and Adam doesn’t either. He can hear the slow and methodical sounds of him making the drink, can smell it, but it isn’t enough for him to roll over - not yet. He just needs a few minutes more of darkness without dreams, a few minutes calm before the storm. Because inevitably with the two of them, there would always be a storm. Adam pads back over to his desk, careful not to knock Ronan's feet as he passes. 

When he finally turned, he couldn’t tell if he’d been asleep or not. It didn’t seem to matter, because Adam was still studying. Eyes tightly focused on the page, pen scratching as it moved across the paper. But his face was gaunt, tired. He thought of how many jobs Adam was working. He thought about his father, about secrets stretched thin. Adam’s secret had had physical symptoms and yet, until that moment, he had failed to piece them together. The outcome had been hard, but they had fit. Ronan’s secret and the symptoms didn’t fit, and neither would the outcome. Ronan blinked slowly, considering as he looks into the soft light of the lamp on Adam's desk.

“Are you staying?” Adam’s voice is soft and Ronan peers at him. Considering how tired Adam appears to be, he shouldn’t. But he _wants_ , with an intensity.

He turns to look at the ceiling instead, mentally tossing up whether he should stay the night or not. Staying might have unsavoury outcomes, more so for Adam than him and it _was_ a school night.

They were back.

This morning, in particular, he’d started awake with a warm heart in his hands and had thrown up next to his bed. It had taken ten minutes for the shaking to stop before he could put it in the trash and take it downstairs. He hadn’t known what to do, and it had been too early to call Adam - his natural reaction for all things fucked up nowadays. He’d sat in his car in his pyjamas until the sun had risen, a slight tremor to his muscles.

Although he’d got his night horrors to listen to him, meaning that he had a semblance of control over their manifestation and behaviour, there was a new beast recently inside Ronan’s brain: Adam.

It seemed now he’d accepted his second secret, accepted this part of himself wholly and without the reserve that he had come to associate with it, it had come to life and become an almost noose. He felt as if Cabeswater was working against him, not with him. It wanted them all to get along happily ever after - and how could Adam and Ronan with such a big secret standing between the two of them? It wanted him to be happy, but how could he if he never had any intention to reveal himself so completely?

The first night had been the worst, since then, the dreams had been repeating but never quite the same.

In his dreams, he’d been Kavinsky, then himself. The night horror had crawled out of his unscarred arm and bloomed, blossomed into an impossible thing. It was all sharp edges, pulsating with every move that it had taken towards Ronan. He’d been frozen. He’d only had to think of Adam and he was there, passive and blank as it stalked him. There hadn’t even been a flicker of recognition on his face; Ronan had tried begging but nothing had been forthcoming. It was like Adam was behind a wall of glass, and if he heard, he didn't care. He’d raised his arm as if to point at something, and Ronan had turned and seen nothing. Then, he’d realised the movement hadn’t been for him.

He’d finally found his limbs to move but he knew in his heart it wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference. He’d not felt the need to truly escape in a long time. After all, you couldn’t run from feelings. His internalised battle hadn’t been something to run away from, rather get over. Get used to. This was not the same.

He’d run as fast as he’d been able, through Cabeswater. In the dream it seemed endless, there hadn’t been any outer edge, he was breathless. He was hunted. Everywhere seemed the same, the same pattern, the same trees.

He’d stopped behind a tree and had gone to his knees, chest heaving and heart pounding. There was no outrunning this either, so it seemed. He panted heavily, he couldn’t hear it, but he knew it was there.

 _Let him in,_ the trees had whispered.

He’d shouted just as it swallowed him whole.

He’d awoken with a start and his room had instantly flooded with eyeballs. They were there one second, and then the next they were dropping like pin-pong balls from the ceiling. They’d at least been made of glass, not flesh. Gansey had come running, alerted by the noise of the glass hitting the wooden floor. And if he’d seen that they were a particular shade of blue, he hadn’t commented.

He realised now that Adam still had eyes on him. He stretched, and that seemed to let Adam know that it wasn’t his intention to sleep here. Dream Adam and real Adam were not the same. Real Adam was dangerous, but not so much to Ronan. Moreso to others. In any case, Real Adam's nose was a little red, and Ronan suddenly remembered why he’d come in the first place. He sat up and popped his back, pulling his legs in to sit cross-legged like a child before Adam. 

“These are for you,” he held out his hand and suddenly felt exceedingly silly. He hoped that he’d sounded casual enough, and Adam took them with a brush of their fingers. They were black, obviously, but the fabric was soft and sturdy; Adam’s mouth ticked up into a smile for Ronan.

“Thanks,” he said as Ronan stood gruffly. “Appreciate it.” His accent was deep with exhaustion, and it was all Ronan could do to not shiver when hearing it.

“Yeah well, you’re not much fucking use to Cabeswater if your fingers fall off.” Because Ronan was the master of sweet talk and feelings.

“Right, Cabeswater,” is all Adam replied as he turned the gloves over in his hands. Ronan didn’t need to even stick around to make sure they were a perfect fit - apparently, he’d spent an embarrassing amount of time staring at Adam’s hands.

He left yet another part of himself behind with him. 

*

It was easy for Ronan to forget, quite honestly, that they weren’t the same people that had set out on the journey.

It was easy to forget that Adam had changed, sometimes. It wasn’t as easy to forget that what they had between them was changing.

A change wasn’t always a bad thing, but what his brain was telling him was that Adam was now dangerous. He’d seen right through everything Ronan had done for him, reached straight in and re-arranged it. He’d lent Ronan what had felt like bottomless Cabeswater, bottomless power, and it had been straight up intoxicating. Cabeswater was playing new favourites, and it was clear Ronan had possiblybeen usurped. But then again, hadn’t Ronan's dream things always had a soft spot for Adam Parrish?

He’d spent enough energy falling for Adam that he hadn’t even thought about what he would do if it was reciprocated. For one, he wasn’t sure whether he wasn’t completely making up the way that Adam would act around him; as if they were two stars pulled into orbit. Another thing would be their constant arguments. They butted heads more than anyone in the group put together - was it not that Adam just found his recklessness annoying and his words unsavoury? His acceptance of Ronan did not automatically mean he wanted his dick. But there had to be something, however small, there because whenever Ronan smiled, Adam looked like he might burst into flames.

_Let him in._

The dreams came every single night after that, and he always brought a souvenir. The night after he’d given him the gloves, it had been lips. That time, Adam had whistled for the monster. It had gone running.

He flung himself down beside Adam in Latin and scratched his pen across the desk with a shrill sound. Adam flinched, but Ronan showed no remorse. He studiously didn’t glance at Adam as Gansey took his normal seat. He’d had the worst nights sleep and woken up with teeth in his hands, as one did. It had not left him in the best mood to study Latin.

“Another fucking day,” is the only comment Ronan made as he took his book out of his bag and flung it into the space between him like it was poisonous.

“Can you keep it quiet?” Adam didn’t even look up. He was usually this way to Ronan in the public of their lessons, and yet this time for some inexplicable reason it bothered him for Adam to pretend like they weren’t friends. He wanted to shove at the space between them, see how far it could go.

“I don’t know Parrish, what can you do to shut me up?” He grinned, and Adam rolled his eyes. This was as close to flirting as they ever got. Ronan not shutting his smart mouth, and Adam tolerating it. Neither of them had yet to cross that boundary - he didn’t even know if Adam knew that’s what he was doing. This time, however, Adam’s gaze was an intense as he’d ever seen; smug and self-satisfied with his retort. 

“I can think of lots of ways, actually.” Holy shit.

“Can you two get a room?” Henry asked them with all the finesse of someone who wanted to die instantly. Ronan had snapped his pencil at Adams comment; Adam went back to looking at the board. His head was spinning. Neither of them replied to Henry’s comment, and the smug bastard had the audacity to look pleased.

”Now you have a sense of fucking humour,” Ronan muttered as he tried to put his lead back into his mechanical pencil. Adam didn’t respond, but he shifted in his seat.

Out of principle for the fact his brain had actually gone straight into the gutter and taken up residence; Ronan didn’t speak to Adam for the remainder of the lesson. It didn’t stop him sneaking glances underneath his eyelashes, however. Something unfurled in his stomach when he realised that this close, Adam had freckles. He’d had his hair cut recently, the back was neat but the front still had some length to it, and it curled just above his eyebrows. There were faded peppered marks on his right cheek that had been left behind by acne, merging with these freckles to create an almost glowing look about him - particularly with his fading summer tan. Ronan looked down at his own tan hands, flexing them around his pen.

As if he’d whispered in Adam’s ear, the others' gaze flickered to his.

 _You could tell him._ The voice in his mind whispered and he stamped it down, trod on it hard. It was a pipe dream, foolish.

He didn’t move his gaze, however, and Adam didn’t look away. Forbidden, he wondered what it would be like to have the raw power that Adam had below his fingertips. Gansey however, was quite done with their intense staring and slammed his own book down between them.

“If you’re going to fight,” he said, misinterpreting the look in Ronan’s eyes for violence, “then do it outside where no one can see you.”

“Has anyone thought about asking Lynch if he’s mentally stable?” He heard Henry say, not so fucking quietly that Ronan couldn’t hear it, that the whole class could hear it, “Especially after Kavinsky offed himself and Lynch’s track record.”

A new expression slapped itself onto Ronan’s face instantly. Carefully manicured and blank, he looked at his classmates. He didn’t think at all, not one bit. He curated his nothingness in the dark of his mind, he only had to bring it forward to protect himself. This was well practised and seamless, but his brain was dissociating.

“How about you shut your fat fucking mouth?” Adam snarled in a thick accent that is rather unbecoming for him, but deadly for Ronan’s heart. There’d been a time when one of them would potentially have said something just as hurtful as that about the other. He was beyond glad that that time in their friendship had passed.

“Thank-you Parrish,” is all he did say, rather robotically even for him. “You took the words out of my mouth.”

They left together, as they always did, but this time they stuck rather close. He knew that Adam would be late for his next class, because he knew Adam’s timetable better than his own. He didn’t call him out on it, it would only rile him.

“Thanks for saying something, Adam.” Gansey was saying as he hung back behind Ronan slightly, who was pretending to be having trouble with his bag. He couldn’t hear what Adam murmured in response. They said their goodbyes at the entrance to Adam’s next class, and he and Gansey walked onwards. The rest of their day was free. Well, Ronan’s days were always free - it was called cutting class.

Ronan walked with Gansey close to his side. Perhaps it was that Gansey remembered the nights waiting in the hospital for Ronan’s skin to link back together that was the reason now he was right up against Ronan’s flank, warm and steady. Maybe he could feel Ronan’s slight tremor, but he didn’t say anything about it. He always appreciated how Gansey was there for him no matter what. He was there when Ronan’s father had died, and he had been there when he’d first started losing control. Nothing that he had ever said had pushed Gansey away - a feat that he had never managed with anyone else.

“Let’s go home,” Gansey said, and for once Ronan shuts his mouth and doesn’t make the crack that Monmouth Manufacturing has never been his home. Besides, that’s no longer strictly true. Maybe people could be a home.

If he dreams later, he doesn’t remember it.

*

The longer nothing changed, the more Cabeswater became increasingly pissy with him. That was the only word Ronan could use for it because it’s the most accurate. He could feel it acutely, for they are one and the same. They use the same languages to communicate- he doesn't need any interpretation. But Cabeswater was being purposefully coy as if they had all the time in the world. He couldn’t figure out what it was trying to show him, like the meaning was blurry. He knew the intention, but he didn’t know if it meant to push them together romantically or rather with teamwork. He hesitated to make the wrong decision. It wouldn’t talk to him straight, but if it did he felt like the answer would be so simple. He was frustrated and strung out- he was used to Cabeswater bending over backwards to give him what he wants. Now, it was most definitely fucking with him.

He needs an ever-expanding box? Fine. But it’s the colour of Adam’s hair to an exact T. Gansey had remarked on what an unusual colour it had been, how he’d never seen anything quite like it made out of material. He needs a bottle of water? Wow, what a coincidence that the water is the same colour as Adams' eyes.

_Definitely fucking with him._

“What an _unusual_ colour!” Gansey had again remarked, smirking. Ronan had thrown it instantly all over the soil to prove a point, but the trees had been laughing at him. He swore at them colourfully in Latin and English, but they hadn’t stopped. Gansey had pointedly not said anything else and Ronan had driven ten above the speed limit the whole way home.

Adam was now the golden child. Whatever he wanted, he got. On the rare occasions that they were there together, Adam thrummed with power. There was almost a gold tint to his eyes, piercing Ronan with a gaze not unlike the ones in his nightmares. There was a smile on his lips when he looked at Ronan that lanced straight through his chest and into his heart. Confident, cool, righteous. Vines sprung around him whether he liked it or not; he pulled roses from the most unlikely of places and managed to do it all while looking smug. Sometimes, Ronan wanted to punch it off his face. Other times, most times, he wanted to kiss him.

Adam had become so central to Ronan’s life that he didn’t think he could live without him. _Dangerous_. Yet Cabeswater wanted them closer.

After many failed attempts, therefore, they agreed for the time being to leave Cabeswater be for a week or so. While it wouldn't give Ronan what he wanted, it was clear that it expected something from them all that Gansey couldn't decipher, so he gave up with it once again. It was like a petulant child recently, throwing all its weight into making their lives - particularly it seemed, Ronan’s and Gansey’s - more difficult. It may have been showing off with its power though Adam, but it wasn't yielding any results.

After an early morning tennis session, he had swung by the diner with Matthew - Adam, Blue and Gansey joining them. Ronan’s eyes had slid to watch Adam carefully scan the menu as if he could simply choose whatever, and that it just so happened it was the cheapest. Ronan had bought Matthew pancakes and rather simple breakfast for himself. Gansey had asked for something off the menu but makeable, as his brand. The waitress hadn’t said anything, but Ronan could tell she wasn’t pleased. Blue chatted amicably to Matthew, which he appreciated.

Sometimes he enjoyed simply sitting and observing them. The unlikely way that they worked together was electric. He found that most of the time, simply being in the company of at least one of them helped the emptiness that had been dwelling at the bottom of his heart. Recently, he’d felt a lot lighter. As he’d started sharing secrets about between them, he’d lessened his load. There was still one major secret to go, but it felt manageable right at this very moment. He could keep the secret forever if it meant he never lost any single one of them. No matter how difficult Cabeswater was making their lives, _his_ life, there were always times like this that felt frozen where he could just appreciate them.

When he tuned back in, Gansey had asked Adam whether he’d gotten any better at scrying.

“I think we should all do a reading actually, seeing as Cabeswater is pretty unstable at the moment.” He aimed that at Ronan with a nod of his head, and Gansey made a noise of agreement.

“I think it would help us get a clear impression of what Cabeswater wants from you.”

“I get enough from my dreams, thanks,” Ronan said while watching them chew aggressively. It was turning his stomach, quite the spectacle. He, on the other hand, was no barbarian. He sniffed indignantly. In truth, he didn’t want to know because he was sure what Cabeswater would say, _‘Cut out the fighting with Adam and kiss him.’_

“You haven’t been faring well on that front,” Gansey felt it prominent to add, and Ronan would kick him under the table if it wouldn’t disturb Matthew.

“Dick,” Ronan replied, and he can't tell if he’s calling Gansey a dick or just calling him his nickname. He hadn’t decided yet. “Mind your own business.”

Adam doesn’t say anything but he does peer curiously at Ronan. He can feel a flush rising to his cheeks under Adam’s scrutiny. He thinks of something to say, anything to break this weird patch in the conversation and stop Adam from staring at him like he was the hardest thing in the world to figure out. Sometimes,he wondered, does Adam really not know how he feels about him?

In his panic to not appear as if he’s flustered by Adam’s gaze, Ronan’s brain supplies him with the first thing he can think of.

“For ten million US dollars, could you punch your own front two teeth out?”

“What the fuck?” Blue complained, putting down her fork as if she has lost her appetite.

“Is this a threat?” Gansey asked.

“How many attempts do you get?” Adam is on his wavelength, or at least humour him. He appreciates it either way.

“You can have as many tries as you want, but you have to do it yourself, with your fist.”

“You’re twisted.” Blue throws her hands up, but Adam laughs.

“I think I could do it, but do I want to?” His eyes are sparkling with mirth, and Ronan finds himself grinning too.

“Don’t be such a wuss, Parrish.”

Gansey sniffs primly. “Well, I don’t think so, I need those teeth.”

“Ronan could just dream you new ones,” Blue pointed out. Matthew ate methodically, content to watch.

“But they’re not the _original_.”

“Your car isn’t the original, I don’t see you complaining.”

He knew he'd got Gansey there when his mouth opened and shut. He grinned at his best friend. Ronan watched the long lines of Gansey’s body, hair ruffled but unflappable. Handsome, familiar, constant.

“Can we get ice-cream?” Matthew asked, pulling his gaze from Gansey, and of course, what was Ronan to say?

“Sure,” he replied easily, for he truly couldn’t deny his younger brother anything. Adam was giving him a look from the other side of the table that was inscrutable and dark.

“Do you like ice-cream, Adam?” Matthew asked, startling them both.

“Yeah, who doesn’t?” The look was gone and all was normal again on Adam’s part, but for some reason, Ronan couldn’t stop his heart from picking up a beat. Had he been watching him watch Gansey?

“My favourite is mint chocolate chip, or maybe even just vanilla.” Matthew could always be counted on to make everyone feel worthy of being talked to, make all feel valued. He was beloved, and he loved in turn. Ronan likes to think his best parts went into Matthew. It was just a question of finding them again in himself.

“Really? Mine is mint chocolate too.” There’s a simple job on Adam’s face that he doesn’t see very often. 

“Would you like to get some?”

“Oh, but I didn’t bring any extra money with me today.” The usual excuse he gave outsiders. But there was something about today, the tight lines on Adams' face, the way he was holding himself, that clearly even Matthew notices.

“Oh, Ronan will get it, won't you?” Matthew smiled, so disarming and full of charm. Ronan didn’t leave Adam any time to respond as he slapped the ten dollar note into Matthews' hand and shooed him towards the ice-cream bar. Blue and Gansey got up to go with him, discussing what dessert was best to order, Blue was obviously the most knowledgeable in this position.

Adam opened his mouth as if to complain and Ronan waved it off.

“Just shut the fuck up and take someone’s friendship for once Parrish.” The words had come unbidden, but they had been true.

“Is that what we are?” This was dangerous territory, and Adam had no clue what line he was dancing. Ronan couldn’t tell whether Adam really meant it as a question, or whether he was being sarcastic. Again, the lines on Adam’s face brought forward unexpected feelings of generosity and honesty from Ronan today. He stopped himself from leaning forward.

“Did you fall down and smack your head?” Ronan said bluntly. “Do I look like I fucking buy things for people I hate?”

There was a moment when Adam lookws at him, where Ronan was absolutely sure that he had just ratted himself out. It went on too long, as if the other was looking into the very fibres of his being and inspecting what he finds. Ronan doesn’t look away - there’s nowhere to look and there’s no point. It goes on way too long to be normal, but at no point does he feel as though it's awkward. It feels like Adam is testing him, as much as he's testing Adam.

“No,” Adam said slowly, finally. “I don’t think you do.”

Matthew chose that moment to slide back into the booth with Gansey, ice creams in hand. He handed Adam his and delight crossed Adam’s face, sparking a fire in Ronan’s throat, rattling something loose in his chest.

“Where’s Blue?” Adam asked, and Gansey thumbed towards the restroom area. Adam tipped his head in acknowledgement. Blue and Adam, a curious thing. He couldn’t help but think about it sometimes. It seemed unusual to him that they would end it as quick as it had started, but then again he hadn’t been privy to any private information. He would watch the way Adam would look at her and Gansey sometimes, not with jealousy or with anger but simply observing.

Adam reached out to ruffle Matthew’s hair with thanks and the thing in Ronan’s chest broke free. If he had to have been stuck with a group of people in the wild ride he called his life, he was glad it was them. For Matthew, for Adam, for Gansey, Noah and Blue, he would do anything.

_Not yet, Cabeswater. Don’t take it from me yet._


	2. two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What does your fortune cookie say?” Noah asked curiously, and Ronan snapped his with aggression, shoving the cookie into his mouth and opening the paper.
> 
> “Your visions will become clear only when you can look into your own heart. Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.” 
> 
> “That’s oddly specific.” Gansey said, with an odd lilt to his voice.
> 
> “Fucking Cabeswater.” Ronan snarled.

Against Ronan’s better judgement, they arrived at 300 Fox Way the next evening without any fanfare. There was a look in Gansey’s eyes as he turned to look at Ronan that dared him to speak out. He didn’t give him the satisfaction, but he was choked and claustrophobic at the thought of all of them being in such a small space at the same time. It wasn’t like being at the Barns, or Monmouth.

He’d brought Matthew along because it had been their turn to hang out, and everybody always loved Matthew. It wasn't any bother to take him anywhere with them: anywhere safe, that was. He’d also brought Chainsaw, because she hadn’t been happy with him this morning, and figured that letting her out to stretch her wings would put him in her good favour. See, he could be nice and considerate. He hadn't brought Adam along because Adam had to work. That may have been a small part of Ronan's plan, scheduling this reading while the other wasn't around.

For all that he knew they needed to move past this hurdle (if you can call Cabeswater’s bad attitude a hurdle), he was reluctant. His secret was what was stopping them all from coming closer together, after all, and to tell them would be to potentially open himself for a world of hurt. Not only that but he almost felt like he has a right to be selfish, especially about this. About himself.

“Kerah” is all Chainsaw had to say, finally free as Ronan released her from under his jacket. She had been warm, but it had been too restricting. He could keenly feel everything that she thought - always. Cabeswater had imparted that gift to him. The women looked at her curiously, but she stayed far back, around Ronan’s elbow. Loyal.

When they get there they are ushered into the room and sat down at the table like it’s a multi-level marketing pitch. He was always amazed by how many of them lived together without killing each other. He could barely handle Noah and Gansey, and one of them was already dead.

“It’s nice to see you Blue,” said Gansey, with a small smile. There was a cough from the women surrounding the table and Gansey amended himself amicably. They accepted what they’re given from the handsome boy with an eye-roll as he continued to speak to Blue without thought for the others at the table. They poured tea for the newcomers, and Ronan accepted his, downing the entire thing in one go. It scalded his tongue and throat on the way down, but that was beside the point. Matthew, next to him, laughed. Ronan bit back the need to curse at his younger brother.

Ronan found himself running quite quickly out of patience, as he hadn’t come for a little tête-à-tête between Gansey and Blue. He slapped a hand down next to Gansey and the other boy jumped, but didn’t shoot him anything resembling a glare.

“Cabeswater has changed,”

“Yes, it has, hasn’t it.” One of the women remarked, almost pensively.

“Adam said that it’s almost as if it’s swelled, it’s breathing, it's gaining,” Gansey pondered. There was always a mythical sense to Gansey, whether he was speaking of leylines or the regional sports. Ronan sometimes wished that Gansey would fall apart just _one_ selfish time, so that Ronan wouldn't feel so much like mixed parts next to him.

“It’s not happy.” Ronan grouched, it seemed almost physically painful for him to reveal that he knew anything about the condition of Cabeswater. Their connection had been incredibly private, after all, until the others had come along. Adam had leapt into it, made it his own skin. The deal that he'd made, whatever dumb fucking thing, had bound them together.

“Yes,” Maura replied gently, eyeing Ronan with something that he wouldn’t hesitate to call apprehension. “I can see that.”

It was as if everyone could see right through him lately as if he were as transparent as the lake. Stripped and laid bare for everybody to pick and marvel at. The vagueness of the women was starting to give him a headache, and they’d only spoken two sentences.

“Ronan, I know you don’t want to talk about your dreams, but I think this is the place to admit you’re having them.” Gansey’s voice was firm, and Blue turned to look at him.

“You’re having nightmares?” She’s curious. He can't really blame her. After all, he had handled them after the Kavinsky Incident, made them his own. To hear that they were back was a curiosity in itself.

He sighed wearily but decided that he might as well tell them. _It doesn’t have to be exposing a weakness_ his brain supplies. _These are your friends._

“Yes,” he ground out. “They’re back.”

“And what happens in them?” Maura asked carefully, moving around him to gather things but not disturbing him. He sat for a long time, thinking about whether or not he should speak. He thought about when he’d told them he pulled Chainsaw from his dreams. He’d practiced those words a lot before saying them, perfecting the casualness of the delivery. There was no amount of practice that could soften this blow for him, or for them.

“Adam is killing me,” There, he’s said it. He’d got it out there and it hadn’t been so bad. It had been twice as bad as he'd thought it would be, actually. It carved something out of him, left a hollowness in his heart. A weakness shown wasn't a weakness shared.

Even Gansey hadn’t been privy to the ins and outs of his dreams. It had always been something that he had kept quiet. It was the deepest, most unconscious part of himself, and it had started waking up. He doesn’t want to look at his brothers hollow eyes, or Gansey’s face. He’d said it and it was in the open. There was certainly no taking it back now.

“Give me the raven,” Calla says unprompted, as if she’s been directly spoken to.

“No,” he said automatically, too surprised that the conversation had even taken that unexpected turn. Then, “Why?”

“She’s your dream object, yes?” Calla talks as if that’s the complete explanation. He's just thankful she didn't ask for Matthew. That was a kettle of fish he didn't need his brother, or his friends, knowing about right now. Chainsaw skirted closer to Ronan as if sensing his apprehension. He narrowed his eyes, but let Chainsaw climb onto his hand, closer to Calla than before.

All the while that they’ve been having their conversation, the other women have been laying out the tarot cards in preparation for a reading. Apparently, it was to be the Three Fates, because there are only three in front of him. His tea has been replenished - by who, he doesn't know. He pays it no attention. His eyes are on his bird.

Calla reached over and Chainsaw stilled. She only had to brush her fingers over the very tops of the feathers on her crown for her gaze to immediately jump to Ronan. He stared at her, wondering what on earth she would have seen, when she opened her mouth and pointed at him - square in the chest.

“Turn over the cards,” Calla demanded and Ronan looked at the cards spread out in front of him.

“If it’s all the same, I’d really rather not.”

“I really don’t think the outcome will surprise you. It’s something you already know.”

“Ronan, please. We’re running out of options.” Gansey begged him, looking confused. If Ronan wouldn’t talk, then how will Gansey, how will Blue and Noah know how to fortify Cabeswater against the third sleeper? They had to work together, there have to be no barriers between them. _But it’s just so goddamn hard._

“Are you forgetting I am the fucking Greywaren?” He said, incredulously, “How much more communication with Cabeswater could there possibly be?”

“Well, when you’re deliberately ignoring it,” Calla snapped as if she was Cabeswater personified and was pissed off, “It’s going to get creative.”

“It wants us to get our act together? We aren’t the fucking circus.”

“Ronan -” Blue started, but she didn’t get the chance to finish.

“Fine,” He snapped, turning over the cards in quick succession: hangman, magician, lovers. His head spun and there it was: the thing that he really hasn’t been wanting to discuss, laid bare in front of everyone. It was like the room took a collective breath.

"Oh fuck off, for the love of God." He said as Blue leveled him with a look.

"That's blasphemous." Matthew admonished, speaking for the first time since sitting down. He clapped his brother on the shoulder in reassurance, it appeared to appease him.

“What does that mean?” Gansey asked excitedly, noting Ronan’s displeasure. “Jane, what does it mean?”

“It means stay out of my fucking business,” he snapped, unsure whether he was speaking to Cabeswater or Gansey. He was absolutely sure that neither of them were going to listen, so it was futile anyway. There was a smile on Calla’s face. Blue was looking at Ronan like she’d never seen him before, careful and considered. He wondered what she was thinking.

“Cabeswater needs protecting, needs a united front. It needs you and the magician as one.”

“Kinky,” Ronan said, he flinched as Gansey slapped him on the arm.

“What does that mean exactly?” Gansey cut in.

“The Greywaren knows exactly what it means,” she said cryptically, and she was a hundred percent right. He knew exactly what she’d felt when she touched Chainsaw - a sense of longing for something, feelings poured straight out into a creature, loneliness personified. There was a crippled part of him that was only alive when he was around someone else; almost like he needs a witness for it to be there. Blue continued to look at him, but as she looked at the other women her gaze softened.

“Your life has been tragic, Greywaren.” She said, holding his gaze as if this is going to be the most profound thing she’d ever said. “But you deserve this, you are allowed happiness.”

Something crashed through him like a wave that he couldn’t control, and he found himself blinking to hold it deep inside. It welled up, and for a moment he wished that it was his mom talking to him so deeply that it hurt, it hurt so bad. He needed to talk to her, he needs to see her. Against his better judgement, he also wanted his father. Niall would have battled on his behalf, he would have said everything that should have been said and he’d have done it with confidence. Ronan was anything but his father. He had always thought that it was a bad thing.

It wasn’t a case of being allowed to have Adam, it was being allowed to be him. It was okay to like Adam, it was okay if Adam didn’t like him back. He was allowed to do whatever he wanted with his life, to be happy, simply because he deserved it. It was like he was back in church, struggling against himself for the longest time before realising that no matter what - he was loved. No conditions, no qualifiers. Almost euphoric. Yet, it was staggering. Mentally and physically, it felt like he’d been immediately drained of all life force. Somehow, he could tell there would be no nightmares tonight.

Ronan’s happiness was himself, it was driving his car, it was animals and most of all it was five people.

“I want to go home.” He said simply, and Gansey looked at him like he’d been transplanted with someone else. The sound of his voice was strange.

“Sure, Ronan. We can go now if you need it.”

He nodded because he wasn’t sure his voice would work to use it again.

“Think on it,” Maura said, as she showed them out of the door. He’d nodded, and gone through it, a hand on Matthew’s back.

When he got home, he went straight to his room after dropping off Matthew, and no one contested it.

The morning after, he woke up with an array of weird items. He frowned at them, paralysed as usual and hazy before he’d connected the dots. He managed to lift his arm, which felt immeasurably heavy and managed to turn.

Gansey, who nowadays had the hearing of a hawk apparently (he suspected in fact, it was Noah), stumbled into the room. He stood there, gazing down at Ronan and at the menagerie of things on the floor - his arm propped against the doorway.

“Huh,”

The items that he’d requested of Cabeswater over a week ago were right there, lined perfectly in the room as if they had always been. The rest of his room is as it had been before, a distinct lack of nightmare material. He’d been right then. Cabeswater had considered itself heeded. Now, it was up to him what to do about it.

“When you’re happy, so is Cabeswater.” Gansey speculated, eyeing the box he’d first asked for with critical eyes. He turned it over in his hand. Ronan hadn’t moved from his position - arm outstretched towards the dream items. There was also a hat, knitted and warm on the end of the row. For Adam. His ears had been getting red. He didn’t even have the will to hide it from Gansey anymore.

There was a silence that was broken only by Ronan sighing, flipping onto his back again and pointedly not looking at Gansey. But that was never off-putting for him.

“So,” Gansey broached. “Adam might be a thing that you’re possibly into?”

Ronan stared at the ceiling, ignoring Chainsaw pulling at his sleeve. She was getting quite insistent, insolent. She was also ruining a jumper he’d appropriated from Adam several months ago that he wore to sleep. Not that Adam knew that.

“I think ‘possibly’ sailed a long time ago, Dick.” He finally said, through gritted teeth. The admission caused red to enter his cheeks, and finally, he moved his eyes downward to look at his best friend.

“Oh, okay.” Gansey’s expression was a little bit bewildered as if he’d completely missed something.

“Is that a problem?”

“No!” Gansey rushed to reassure him, and for all that he had thought his best friend would be okay with anything, he was almost relieved. Not that he thought that Gansey would have anything bad to say about it, but for his approval.

“It’s just, unexpected.” He finished lamely.

“Is it?” Asked Noah, who had come to join them. “I thought he was being quite obvious.”

“Oh? Maybe I am just obtuse.”

“No, you’re isosceles.”

Ronan groaned.

*

But life never seemed real without a row with Adam.

For all he liked Adam, and he did in fact _like_ like him, they did butt heads often. Usually, over the stupidest of things. For instance, now they were arguing over whether or not Ronan had paid for Adam’s gas or not. (He had, but that was beside the point.) When he’d flipped over the cards and seen what Cabeswater thought to be the conclusion to their merry little story, there had been a surge of hope. But what he’d forgotten was how fucking headstrong, stubborn and annoying Adam could be when he was in a shit mood.

“Parrish, we’re going to be late, and you know Gansey hates it when we’re late.”

He’d picked Adam up from work, which had almost become a thing, and then they’d swapped to the Hondoyata. Ronan had swiped his card inside while ‘buying chips’ and paid for extra fuel without Adam knowing. He’d known as soon as he’d done it that it would lead to an argument, yet it hadn’t stopped him. If Cabeswater wanted them together, fine. He’d stop censoring himself around Adam, but that didn’t mean Adam was going to like it. If the trees could hiss, they’d be doing it at him right now.

Adam was currently driving with a face like a strawberry as he clearly tried not to cuss Ronan out, who had a foot on the seat and was pretending that nothing had happened. He munched on the chips and brushed all the crumbs from his shirt and onto the floor of the car. That only served to piss Adam off more - but Ronan was in an antagonistic mood.

The silence lasted for about five minutes.

“Can you stop meddling in my life?” There was a certain irony about that statement, when Adam had only just pulled off the hat that Ronan had given to him when he'd picked him up from work.

“Nope,” Ronan replied evenly, knowing that would rile him up further but unable to stop himself from saying it anyway. He put another chip into his mouth. It crunched loudly.

“I don’t know whether you have some sort of _complex_ about it or -”

“Look, you drive me around often enough so -”

“Not just this! Everything!” Adam exploded like he’d been holding it in for a long time. His face was red and he turned his eyes onto Ronan with a critical gaze that had Ronan stop as he opened his mouth to speak. This was Adam on a warpath.

“I don’t need you to pay for stuff for me,” Adam continued. “I’m not your boyfriend and I’m not a charity case, so just stop.”

And wow, didn’t that punch Ronan right in the face. Either that was an incredibly poor choice of words, or Adam knew. Knew and didn’t care. Worse, his brain supplied. Knew and didn’t want him.

“Oh, right.” There’s a lilt to his voice that he didn’t recognise. “I didn’t realise it bothered you that much.” He didn’t know whether he was talking about the gas money or his feelings, but it didn’t matter.

Maybe Adam knew because he raked a hand through his hair and glanced at him anxiously. Ronan pointedly wasn’t looking at him, but he had an idea of what his face looked like. It must have been bad because Adam tried to speak to him again, when for one of his typical fights he wouldn’t have bothered.

“Ronan -”

“No, I get it.” He snapped, “Don’t worry, I’ll stop.”

“That- that wasn’t what I meant to say.” Adam tried to salvage, but Ronan’s pride is already hurt, which meant that he was now unavailable. Completely shut off. They often had these misunderstandings, Adam and he. It made him wonder why the fuck Cabeswater, and himself, thought they’d be a good match.

“I’m just,” Adam’s hands grip tighter on the steering wheel, and Ronan knows that means that something is difficult to say. For all he’d hurt Ronan’s feelings, lashing out was a way that both of them knew self-protection. “I’m just not used to people being kind.”

He thought back to Adam’s sad excuse for parents. It would make sense that Adam felt this way, after years of essentially being his parents birthed lackey.

“Well, you’ll have to get used to it, won’t you?” Ronan caught his eye and held it, Adam’s hair was pushed back and his cheeks were flushed and all Ronan could think was _fuck, you’re so beautiful._

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” Adam scratched his chest self consciously as he turned into the clearing but he didn’t say anything else. Ronan scoffed. Mask in place he could almost pretend that he had none.

“What feelings,” Ronan slammed the door on the way out.

They shouldered on despite everything and sat around the lake in relative silence. Ronan glanced at Adam slightly more than he would glance at Gansey and Blue but made sure the attention didn’t seem special. Adam however, was flat out staring. He supposed when you had no internal turmoil to hide, you could be as open as you wanted.

_I’m not your boyfriend._

What if he’d come out right then and there and simply said it. What if his response had been _‘No, but you could be. No, but I want you to be.’_ Another fork in the road of what if’s that constantly plagued Ronan’s head. He put his book down and moved slightly away from the circle, lying flat on his back to look at the sky as he let the others fade into background noise. He closed his eyes, tried to get a feel for Cabeswater. As usual, nothing. Not unless he was dreaming.

As Blue and Gansey spoke of fortifications and the Fox Way women, Adam sidled closer. He didn’t turn his head to look at Adam as the other lay next to him, but they were close enough that Ronan could feel the shift of fabric hit his bare arms. His eyes were closed, pretending to be asleep in lieu of ignoring the other boy. He kept his breathing even and his face still. He wished that Adam would go away, so that he could keep the anger and bottle it up - replace the fluttering in his chest with a bull and red flag instead. Adam clearly, didn’t want that.

Ronan would memorise this moment as the first time Adam had (almost) attempted to hold his hand. Right hand over his body as he laid on his side, he slid it over Ronan’s own right hand. Ronan stayed remarkably still, eyes closed so that he couldn’t betray himself. Adam’s hand was slightly clammy but feather-boned, and he touched like Ronan might break - like he had broken Ronan. What feelings indeed? Could Adam tell that Ronan’s heart was beating like it was trying to escape his chest? Could he feel nausea that was rising up in his chest? Could he feel his fingers tremble with the effort to stay still?

Eventually though, he relaxed. He let himself have this. Despite Adam’s earlier words, his actions seemed contradictory. But then, he knew that a righteous Adam hit the hardest. Both of them would play dirty when they weren’t in the mood to resolve it. He was halfway to real sleep, when Adam mumbled something, tugging on his hand.

“What’s that?” Ronan’s voice was muffled by exhaustion, he barely got the words out.

Adam opened one eye just to a slit so he could peer through it. His hair was crushed against the side of his head. He wasn’t even all the way awake. Then he said the words that Ronan had thought he’d heard:

“Hangman.”

Ice flooded through his veins. He had been well aware that to pull the magician card had explicitly meant Adam. Had Adam pulled hangman too, or had he just made an extremely, pointed and educated guess? The entire point of pulling hangman was awareness, enlightenment. Did that have something to do with what Adam had said in the car?

He suddenly didn’t want to hear the next few words out of Adam’s mouth. Thankfully, there were none.

After a few minutes of nothing, he chanced a glance at Adam to find the other had closed his eyes. Small flowers dotted the arm between them, springing up out of nowhere and ringing around their hands. Vines had made their way up and into Adam’s hair. All at once it was claustrophobic, too much. Cabeswater was pleased, was that it? Did Adam even have a chance?

“Ronan,” Adam said, sleepily. Perhaps he wasn’t even awake. The vines climbed further up his arm, they clenched. His heart clenched.

He pulled his hand away sharply and Adam stirred, brow furrowing in confusion as Ronan sat up, not even looking at the other boy. He didn’t need to say it for Adam to understand what he was trying to convey. _I don’t have feelings. You’re not my boyfriend._ Hangman.

He stalked over to where Gansey was situated and snatched his book back off the grass that he had thrown down earlier when it had been obvious that they were to be boring and only want to talk business.

“Fuck Cabeswater,” He said aloud, his personal mantra at the moment so it seemed. Blue glanced back to Adam and clearly did not like what she saw, because her head whipped around to Ronan’s and a scowl found its place on her face.

“No -”

“Fuck Cabeswater.” He said, as he threw himself down on the ground and stared at her. He pointedly didn’t participate in anyone’s little conversation or discussion, whether it was plan related or not until they decided to go home. He sat there, seethed, and read his book (Gone Girl, and no he wasn’t having a crisis) and ignored any and all questions directed at himself. When it was indeed time to go home, he climbed in Gansey’s car and ignored Adam and Blue’s looks. Fuck Cabeswater. Fuck this.

Fuck Adam, fuck him probably knowing about his feelings and doing nothing. Fuck Cabeswater and thinking that they’d be good together. Ronan wasn’t good with anyone. Ronan was good for nothing.

*

The next time he saw Adam he was armed with Chinese food and had Richard Gansey III in tow. They were chatting as they pushed open the door, juggling the cartons and the keys. He hadn’t heard the Pig pull up. Adam looked at Ronan as if he were seeing things, Ronan, especially seen as he’d been doggedly avoiding him for the past three days. However, it also happened that Ronan was very much shirtless and just out of the shower. Which was incredibly fun. Adam studiously didn’t look at him as he set down the food, and Gansey was saying something he instantaneous tuned out, as he did for much of their coexistence.

He’d gone far, far out of his way to avoid the other. This had been the most energy he had expended he had done since he had convinced Declan he had run away for two days in the lower forms of high school (he’d slept in the shed, it had been cold as balls).

“Thanks for the heads up you useless prick.” He told Noah, who simply shrugged. He stormed off to put a shirt on, feeling the blush take root from the bottom of his feet all the way up to his face. He stamps towards his bedroom.

He returned after ten minutes of talking himself into it, throwing himself down on his bed and moaning into the pillow. He’d given himself a stern talking to whilst he was in there - and he was prepared to finally man up and face the music. He threw himself down next to Gansey as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. Blue shifted away slightly as if she’s not quite ready to tackle Ronan when he was in this sort of mood. Or perhaps, they'd all been talking about him in the car. More likely.

But then, Adam finally looks at him and smiles. He almost stands up and goes back to his room.

And it carried on all night.

Adam was pretending that they didn’t have a fight, didn’t speak for three days. Ronan didn’t go to Adam’s work, didn’t go to his apartment, didn’t even sit by him in class. Ronan doesn’t smile back. Adam’s smile falters.

He takes a carton of the food out without uttering a word. He certainly wasn’t going to say thank-you. They chattered without him. He heard Adam lowly relay a show that had been available on his television that he had watched last night to Gansey (another thing that Ronan had dreamt up, he didn’t even need to pay for cable). He listened to Gansey amicably chat about it, ask Adam what he thought about it. Blue joined in, although she didn’t seem to like to watch television all that much, she had some choice words about some of the characters that Adam was telling her about.

When they started making plans to watch movies without him, the plastic creaked dangerously in his hand. He could see Gansey looking at him out of the corner of his eye, so it was definitely on purpose. Dick.

“What does your fortune cookie say?” Noah asked curiously, and Ronan snapped his with aggression, shoving the cookie into his mouth and opening the paper.

_“Your visions will become clear only when you can look into your own heart. Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.”_

“That’s oddly specific,” Gansey said, with an odd lilt to his voice. He could have punched him.

“Fucking Cabeswater.” Ronan snarled. He tore the paper into tiny pieces and thought twice about eating it before just mashing it into the floor. Gansey groaned at the mess he’d have to clean up later, but Ronan couldn’t give two fucks. Blue looked to Noah, and the ghost shrugged. Adam pointedly didn’t say a word.

He went back to his silence as they turned on the television. It was a game show, he could tell by the audience laughter and the quick quips from the show host. Gansey loved watching this shit. Ronan liked to imagine it was because he could guess the answers and make himself feel extra smart. He didn’t like it when Ronan would guess the answers faster than him: or worse, give wrong answers on purpose to piss him off.

["In the Lord's Prayer, what word beginning with 'H' meaning 'blessed' comes before 'be thy name'?"

"Howard."

“Ronan, _please-_ ”]

He finished his last mouthful of rice and put the carton down. If he was going to be subjected to this, he may as well get his book from his room so that he could make some headway. Noah had floated off somewhere at that point, leaving Blue curled close to Gansey as Ronan sat on the floor, avoiding Adam’s gaze. As he got up, he noticed eyes following him. So, it was no surprise when he turned to see Adam in his room.

“Are we - are we okay?” Adam asked, toying with one of the figures on his shelf, not looking at him. What a loaded question. He and Adam would usually always make up by the end of the day, but that hadn’t happened. He looked at Adam’s dusted cheekbones.

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I haven’t seen you,” Adam said, which meant _‘you’ve been avoiding me.’ ‘you haven’t visited.’_ but what Adam then said was, “I missed you.”

Ronan’s heart leapt up into his mouth. “Surprising. I thought you didn’t want me around.”

Adam was silent for a long moment. He seemed to be on the verge of saying something, whether it would carry on from the epiphany he had given Ronan the other day or not. Ronan knew that surely, Adam must know. Otherwise, why had he said it?

“Look you know I didn’t mean it,” Adam says, then stops himself. “Well, I did, but not like that. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable… I just meant you don’t need to do me favours that I can’t return.”

_“Favours?”_

“Look,” Adam said, and his eyes flashed. “I don’t need handouts, especially not from my friends who are trying to make up for shit they said a long time ago.”

“Shit I said?” Ronan’s starting to feel like a fucking parrot.

“I know you hated me in the beginning, but you had your reasons,” Adam continues. “You don’t need to make up for it, or whatever. I forgave you a long time ago for it, for what it’s worth…” he trails off. “Anyway, Gansey said to mention that to you or something.”

Gansey’s dumb. Adam’s dumb. He was actually so dumb. Ronan’s going to stab Gansey. Maybe smash his head in with a baseball bat. Throw him through the fucking window. Punch him in the face. Get Chainsaw to peck out his eyes. Ronan blinked. What the fuck. What the everloving fuck.

_Do I look like I buy things for people I hate?_

_No, I don't think you do._

Is _that_ what Adam had taken it for? Plus, Gansey had led Adam to the wrong idea. Gansey had let Adam believe this was some misguided attempt at showing that he was sorry. _Gansey knew Ronan fucking liked Adam and still fucked it up._ Ronan was trapped in hell, and he hadn’t had to die to get there. He wished he had.

“You think I give a single shit about how I treated you back then? You think that’s what this -” He waved between them madly, “- _this_ is about?"

Adam puffed up, taking it the wrong way.

“Well -”

“He made you think that I - _what_ ? Drive you around, pay for your shit, spend time with you, cause I _feel bad_ about ragging on you for those first months?” Ronan is speechless, metaphorically of course. He can always find something to say. “ _That’s_ what Gansey told you.”

“Well, why else would you?”

The silence hung between them as thick as a curtain. Ronan stared at Adam's pale eyes and saw honesty. Unlike in the diner, there was no sly consideration. Adam thought he had connected point A (Ronan always treated him to shit) and point B (Ronan felt sorry for him, again.).

 

When it became clear Adam wasn't going to talk, Ronan went to leave.

Adam moved, unwilling to get between Ronan and a door. Adam didn’t follow. He could hear Adam turn on Gansey, and their voices drifted behind him. Ronan walked down the stairs (only just stopping short of throwing himself down them) and into the cool winter air.

He let the air chill his skin and seep away some of his anger. Anger at himself. Anger at how dense the other boy was. He would wait for him to have his own epiphany. Wait for him to gain the insight he quite obviously so desperately needed to make sense of Ronan’s actions towards him. He didn’t think that at this point, he could be more obvious if he tried. God, it was exhausting. Who knew that trying to tell your best friend you like them could be so fucking difficult.

He was there for ten or so minutes before Blue caught up to him, he let her stand by his side for a moment. She always seemed to show up at the most inopportune time, like she had a sixth sense for it. It was either that, or her, Gansey and Noah had played rock, paper, scissors for who had to come to speak to him. The latter seemed to be most likely.

“What do you want, maggot?” He said finally.

She huffed and didn’t say anything for a moment, as if she was steeling her nerves. Then, she spoke.

“I really hated you, you know? At first.” He didn’t really know where the fuck she was going with this, because it’s absolutely out of nowhere. “You were rude to me, and you were ruder still to Adam. You’re still rude. But I think that somewhere along the lines, I misjudged you.”

Hell is fucking freezing over somewhere.

“You think I fucking care what you think?” He gritted out instead, because he’s Ronan, and he had to keep up appearances.

“Yes. I think you do.” She speculated. “You certainly care what Adam thinks about you now. And you know what? We _want_ to give a damn about you.” He turned to look at her then, betraying himself enough to show some surprise. “It’s about time you started _letting_ us.”

“He thinks I do it out of pity.”

“Then prove to him that it’s not.”

“I’m handling it.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.” But the way she commented wasn’t facetious, she was genuinely concerned. He kind of appreciates it, but mostly wished she would stay out of his business. But then again, he’d felt like that about everyone since his father’s death. Maybe it’s past time to let people in.

He thinks of Adam upstairs - confused and stupid. Not realising that Ronan’s actions were out of love and not out of regret for how he’d treated the other before. Adam always thought pity was the default emotion behind every interaction with him. He didn’t seem to contemplate that Ronan thought he was handsome, so much so that he showered him in dream gifts, wanted to be with him constantly. He thought Ronan pitied him. Pitied that he was a poor boy with nothing. In reality, he could have been anyone, a big named star, and Ronan would have still dreamt him everything.

“You’re hurting him.” He doesn’t bother to turn to look at her.

“He’s a big boy, he can handle himself.” But Ronan doesn’t put faith in his own words when it comes to Adam Parrish.

“Not when it comes to you."

There's silence.

“We need to stand together,” She told him. There was a slight drizzle now, and Ronan could feel it wetting his scalp. When she was like this, righteous and at the same time supportive, he knew what Gansey saw in her - what Adam had seen in her.

“Whatever you and Adam need to sort out, just know we - me, Gansey, and Noah - are here. ” She hesitated, as if she knew exactly what they needed to sort out but didn’t seem to want to say it. Maybe she thought Ronan would run away or bristle, but truly he was tired of the deflections. Acceptance, however, as Cabeswater reminded him, was not action.

“Remember when I asked? Yeah, me neither.” He kicks at the ground.

“Would it honestly kill you to feel something for once?”

“ _Yes_.” He says, and he’s surprised he went and said it. Blue is too. Her mouth hangs open as if whatever she was about to say has now been rendered null by Ronan’s unexpected honesty.

“Are you fucking happy now?” And Blue’s eyes cloud with something that might be pity and he instantly shuts down. The mask comes back on. It’s painfully obvious that he’s reached his quota for people’s bullshit tonight. This is the second time in as many weeks that he’s accidentally shattered, splintered in front of them. He needs to get a grip of himself.

"When Calla told you that you could have happiness,” Blue says slowly. “Was she talking about Adam?” She doesn't frame it like a question, more of a statement. No, _confirmation._

Ronan laughed, an ugly and sharp sound. “Well, she was wrong.”

“Why?”

“Cause he’s a fucking oblivious dumbass, and I’m me.” He said like it explained everything. "I'm always me."

"But, you've always been you," she stated, and he supposed that she was correct. “And you, as you, pulled the lovers.”

“And yet,” Ronan said, picking at his leather bands and turning back to look up at the large windows. “We keep losing at hangman.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two things:
> 
> fortune cookie quote: carl jung. 
> 
> hangman card: 'he is hanging upside-down, viewing the world from a completely different perspective, and his facial expression is calm and serene, suggesting that he is in this hanging position by his own choice. he has a halo around his head, symbolising new insight, awareness and enlightenment.'
> 
> i chose this to be the main themed card for them because it's almost like epiphany? but epiphany can take many different forms. anyway. adam's being dense. but is he??? is heeee????
> 
> thanks for baring with me for the update! hope it's worth.
> 
> i'm not particularly happy with this chapter and i'll probably make some changes but it was getting too long. that means im either gonna end up 4/4 or 3/3 with a MASSIVE ending chapter.. hm. i want to add some more, ronan and gansey scenes, either ill add them to this or the next chapter. either way, i want more.
> 
> if i went with 4/4 i could swap to adam for the next chapter?? what would u think about that or do you like ronan centric more?  
> anyway, let me know if you catch anything or what you think! kudos is greatly appreciated.  
> 謝謝你！

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to leave a comment and kudos! as usual, you can find me on twitter: @boyinlovz


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